Ana Toland: A Short Story

We walked together to the field, the spikes on the bottom of my cleats clicking with each step on the parking lot pavement. A huge field with onlookers filling the bleachers on the far side came into view, lit up by the soft evening light. I spotted the girls on my team and my tired looking grey-haired coach. Me and my dad split up, me going to warm up with my team and my dad going to sit with the team parents. As I was passing with my teammates I watched the opposing team carefully. I observed how neat their drills were and how accurate their shots and passes were. They all looked so athletic and that really made me doubt myself. How was I supposed to prove to everyone that I was a good player if I had to play against a team this good? What if I mess up and the other team completely destroys my team? The loud buzzer that ended the warm ups sounded and both teams went to their side of the field. My coach called today’s starters out, and luckily he didn’t choose me. Relieved, I went to go sit on one of the hard metal chairs they provided for the teams on the sidelines. The chairs were uncomfortable but that didn’t bother me. I had other things on my mind. I sat shivering watching the events of the game

Back into the story of me when I was on the soccer team. Being on the team in the first year of high school brings lots of honor, as much as pressure. I have to show them that I have enough ability to play with people who are older than me. For that reason, I decided to train very hard in order to prepare for the city’s soccer league. I was always the first one who went to the training camp and the last one who left there. It was the first

Throughout my whole life my parents have told me many things. They told me to always do good in school and get good grades, never give up, and try my hardest. I listened to them no matter what, and without them I would not be able to graduate high school, go to college, and major in nursing. When I was in fifth grade I was in and out of the hospital for two months, because I had no vision in my right eye, blurry vision in my left eye, and weakness and loss of control in my

I had spent most of my childhood happy, without much pain or adversity; as a result, the moment I learned I did not make the Junior Varsity volleyball team my freshman year, I was especially devastated. When I showed up on our first day of tryouts I was excited. I looked forward to playing volleyball all summer with my friends. I worked hard, and I felt really confident at the end of the two weeks; certain that I had made the Junior Varsity team. The coaches took me to a secluded room and sat me down to explain which team I had made. I was almost already thanking them, not realizing that they were telling me, "We think that your skills at the moment would shine best on JV2; work on your technique and practice being a leader.”

The whole month my parents had been bugging me of something that I was so unsure about. They were trying to encourage me to try something new, something I had never done before. I was so scared and nervous… I didn’t want to feel intimidated, but that’s exactly how I felt. I kept refusing my parent's request to “get involved” as they would say. I had only a pittance of knowledge about high school cheer. When I attended cheer tryouts the first week of June, I was extremely nervous and bubbling with trepidation, as well as fear. I would've never even known that this sport would have such an extraordinary impact on my life. Throughout my entire high school cheer experience, there has only been one person who has been there with me through it all. This particular person, also know as Coach Ruby, has given me moral support in everything I have achieved. Through all of the blood, sweat and tears, she has been there, regardless. It is known that every coach dreams to see their athletes succeed and reach his or her highest potential. My coach has provided me with the ultimate necessities to have the most remarkable cheer experience possible. She consistently keeps a close surveillance on each and every cheerleader to provide individuals with the most accurate feedback possible. As she encourages everyone to do their best, she also reminds us to look past our perturbation. She’s taught me that dreams don’t work, unless you work for them. Overall, my coach, Ruby, acts like a second mom and I can only hope that she subsists in my life even after high school cheer is over for

Fast forward to the next year, I showed up at tryouts. I was confident, but still nervous considering what happened the year before. As I jumped in the pool I was ready for whatever the coach threw at me. Not once did I get lapped. The coach posted the list, I anxiously looked over it and saw my name. Relieved and overjoyed, I had finally made it. Later that year I even won the coaches award at the banquet. Forget about making the team, I was now an

It just seems like it would be natural for me to begin playing organized basketball at an early age, but I did not other than the rough and tumble playground ball at recess. I began to yearn to play on a real team, and soon I would have my chance. It was the summer before the sixth grade, and I managed to talk my father into purchasing me a basketball and my mother into purchasing the rim. We put the rim up onto the shed and I began practicing.

I have gone through many experiences and journeys throughout my life. However, out of all of them, one stands out the most. That one journey that stands out the most is making the middle school basketball team. It was a two long journey that I will never forget. It all started seventh grade year at Sebring Middle School when I tried out for the basketball team. The whole month before tryouts, I conditioned and played basketball nonstop preparing for the week-long tryouts. Finally, the first day of tryouts came and everything went well. The second day of tryouts came, which is when they do the first cut, and I was lucky enough not to get cut. After the second day, the next two days were a breeze. Then Friday came, the last day of tryouts. At

We had basketball tryouts on october 31st and i was doggin them folks on the court they couldn’t handle me and i was just a little 9th grader and they were all 11th and 12th graders they must have felt bad but i know they didn’t because i used to play against them all the time in practice so they already knew what it was. I was 6’3 and JJ was 6’4 by the time we were 9th graders and we made varsity when we picked our jerseys i picked my dads old number because i always wanted to be different from him but htis year i had to honor him by wearing his number the number is 1. We had our first practice and i kinda started to tear up a little bit because i know my dad would be proud of the man i became and the ball player i became he always said i will be better than he ever was just because of the passion i had for the game and the little smile i had every time a ball was in my hands. Practices kept going on and on and me and JJ earned the starting spots on the team we were getting very popular amongst the student body. The first game came up and as always me and JJ weren’t scared we were ecstatic to play against better competition and show the world what we can really

I constantly fought this mental battle of giving in to the temptation of not playing and letting all of my teammates and coaches down, or growing thicker skin and sucking up the pain in order to satisfy the voice in the back of my mind. This period of turmoil seemed to not have an end. Then, as if by miracle, everything changed as I entered my junior year in high school. My knee pains had nearly disappeared, I shed most of the extra weight I had, I even developed my shooting and dribbling to the point where my peers began to notice the drastic “transformation” I went through. That season, I lead my team in points, rebounds, and blocks per game and made it to the semi-finals of the state championship tournament, the furthest the program had gone in four years.

After a long couple of weeks the tryout arrived. The first day seemed intense with many people trying out. Most of these kids were just looking for a sport to play and had never played before. This loosened me up and I started to lose the butterflies.It was a long lasting 2 hour try out and I was glad to be done. I worked my tail off and hoped for the best. I became very nervous as I came home. In the car down the long black street that you could see the heat waves coming off of, my father peppered me with

Last year, in seventh grade I decided to try out for basketball after the first day of tryouts I was not confident that I was going to make the team because I could not make a shot. The next day we had another try out I was ready to play. I came out and played well which made me feel better about the tryout. After the third day of tryouts I was not to confident that I would make the team. When I got the email that I made the team I was juiced I jumped all over my room. The first practice I was ready to play. I knew that coach Faust didn't mess around when it came to basketball. Practice was miserable I was so tired from doing “suicides” and running around the track. Our team couldn't do any of the drills successfully so we ended up running extra. On the second day of practice we started doing much better and making some shots.

After tryouts the coach brought us all over 1 by 1 and told us if we made the team. My heart was pumping while i waited for him to call me over. He yelled my name and I ran over, I had made the team. After the news I was determined to greatly improve my skills throughout the season. Each practice was hard and the games were much more intense than my previous years. The warm ups were all thought out and made us really get our shooting and passing on point. Then the national anthem was played and it really gets you in a great game mindset. After my first game on varsity I realized how much better everyone

I started to see improvement, and my coach must have noticed as well, because he invited me to come to the varsity tournament that weekend. I was excited for the opportunity to prove myself, but after sitting for the first two games, I worried that I wasn’t going to get my chance. When I saw that I wasn’t starting in the third and final game, I gave up nearly all hope that I would get to play. I was starting to wonder if all my hard work was even worth it, when, all of a sudden, my coach told me to get ready to go in. As I entered the game, I felt a little nervous, but I knew I was prepared. This was the opportunity I had been waiting

Anxiety surged through every portion of my body. Tears streamed down my face almost as fast as thoughts flooded through my head. “It won’t be the same. You’ll be uncomfortable. The coach will hate you. They’ll all make fun of you. You won’t be good enough.” I struggled to push the thoughts from my head.